Last Night Psych
by ShawnLassiter56
Summary: No one remembers what happened last night. Were they drugged? Shot at? Maybe they just partied too hard. This is a 4-part story about Last Night Jules, Last Night Carlton, Last Night Shawn and, of course, Last Night Gus.
1. Last Night Jules

**Disclaimer: I don't own Psych.**

**This is from Juliet's POV.**

I woke up with a splitting headache. I realized with a start that I was naked. And I wasn't alone in bed. I figured Shawn had crashed here last night and shook him gently.

"Wake up, Shawn. Time for work." He sat up next to me slowly. I realized with a shriek that it wasn't Shawn.

"Gus! Oh my god!" I then realized that he too, was naked. Then, I noticed Shawn and Carlton lying on Gus's other side. They were naked and entwined; gripping onto each other like their lives depended on it. I was really freaking out. I had no idea what happened last night, my head was pounding like a drum, and I was in bed with Shawn, Gus and Carlton.

"Juliet!" Gus yelped, struggling to cover himself. He screamed when he saw Shawn and Carlton. "What—why—sorry, I can't focus." He motioned to my chest. I blushed and pulled the covers up around me. He continued. "What happened? Why are we naked and what is up with THAT?" He nodded at Shawn and Carlton.

Shawn blinked a few times before sitting up. He jumped a mile when he saw Lassiter's legs wrapped around him. "Oh! Okay, where are the hidden cameras?" He looked around frantically before noticing Gus and I watching him. "Oh for the love of god! What's going on?"

His screaming woke Carlton up. "Spencer, shut up. Wait...SPENCER! What on earth...where are we?"

Shawn smiled. "Welcome to the O'Hara Mansion!"

"Then where's O'Hara?"

I waved, careful to keep the comforter around me. "Right here. Good morning, Carlton." He fell out of bed in shock. I couldn't help but laugh at us. Gus was on the edge of a heart attack, Carlton was reaching for a gun that he wasn't wearing, Shawn was smiling at Gus and comforting him, and I was fighting being turned on desperately.

"Okay, guys. Does anyone remember anything from last night?" The boys shook their heads. "Nothing? What's the last thing you remember?"

"I think we went clubbing. We all have wristbands on from Impossible, the new dance club on Desiree Blvd." Gus piped.

Shawn looked at him incredulously. "Since when do you keep up with the club scene?"

"Well, I know someone who works there."

"Who would that be?"

"College friend."

I clapped my hands together. "Okay! That's a lead. Let's go!" I ran out of the bedroom. I then re-entered. "Um, does anyone know where my clothes are?" They shook their heads. "What about your clothes?" More head shaking. Ugh. This was going to be weird.

O00ooOO00ooO

I couldn't help but laugh at the guys. Shawn was in my jeans and a floral blouse, Carlton wore leggings and a blue low cut formfitting shirt and Gus wore jeans and a pink button-down top. They looked like drag queens gone horribly, horribly wrong. Shawn and Gus wore sneakers, but Carlton had been left with a pair of black pumps. Watching him struggle through walking in those was hilarious. All of our cars were gone, so we called a cab. The driver gave us some major attitude about the outfits, but Carlton didn't have his gun, so our cabbie lived to see another day.

Gus's college friend was tending bar when we arrived at Impossible. "Gus!" She shrieked. "What's up, Big Spender?"

He smiled. "Hey, Debbie. Guys, this is Deborah DeLaurence. Debbie, this is Juliet O'Hara, Shawn Spencer and Carlton Lassiter."

She laughed. "I know them, silly! You guys ruled this place last night!"

I cleared my throat. "What happened, Miss DeLaurence?"

"Call me Debbie! You guys did a ton of shots, and then you guys danced all night! You also got nicknames. Shawn, you were Spencestar, Carlton, you were the Lasserater, Juliet, you were J, and Gussie, of course, the Gust! I'm not surprised you guys don't remember! It's amazing you guys can move."

Her red hair bounced as she talked. Her smile was bright and joyful. She was obviously hiding something if she was this cheerful at 9 a.m. Carlton was way ahead of me.

"Miss, let me make myself clear. SBPD." He flashed his badge. "Something happened last night, and we need to know what."

Her smile didn't fade. "Okedoke, let me think. Juliet and Shawn spent a lot of time dirty dancing on the stage, and Carlton, you met a woman, and Gus made some friends."

Shawn and I blushed. "Debbie, who did we leave with?" I asked.

"You all left together, plus Carlton's lady friend, Margot, and Gus's friends. I can't remember their names. They were guys in their mid-twenties, maybe early thirties, brown hair, one had brown eyes the other had blue. Oh, and I think they were a couple."

"What did Margot look like?" Carlton asked.

"She was tall and thin. Um, super pale skin, a little freckly, dark hair and eyes. She was really funny, too. Real people person."

"Wow, Lassie. How come you only score hot chicks when you're drunk?" Shawn asked.

Carlton tried to come across all player-y, but failed terribly. "I have game, Spencer. Drunk or not."

"Where can we find her?" Gus asked.

"I overheard her telling Carlton she lived on La Montoya, so she must be pretty loaded. I think she said she was 429 or something around there."

I smiled and nodded. "Thanks, Debbie. We'll be back."

O00oo00ooO

"Whoa. This is one ritzy neighborhood." I muttered when we turned onto La Montoya. I nodded at our cabbie. "Drop us at 429." He stopped and let us out. A woman who matched Debbie's description was sitting on the front porch, typing on a laptop. She grinned as soon as she saw us.

"Carlton! Holy crap!" She flew into his arms. He accepted the hug perplexedly. Her short, green sundress flapped in the wind, enveloping Carlton into a green cocoon.

She smiled at Gus and Shawn warmly, giving them both bear hugs. She squeezed my head when she saw me. "J! What's up?"

I remembered her, vaguely. I saw her in a blur, kissing Carlton, doing shots...and in the Blueberry! That explains why we don't have that! She must have dropped us off at my house and taken the car with her. Sure enough, she told Gus she had his car. The joy on his face was unmatchable.

"Margot, something bizarre, maybe even macabre, happened last night. We are currently investigating, and you are a witness. Tell us everything you know." Carlton barked.

"You guys are cops? That's so sexy."

"We know." The guys purred. I rolled my eyes. I expected this from Shawn and Gus, but Carlton? Really?

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Tell us what happened last night."

She cleared her throat. "Okay, here goes. You guys got majorly buzzed, we all danced for a few hours, then you guys, Tim, James and I all come back here and hung out in the hot tub out back for an hour. But then you all realized you had work tomorrow and I drove you to J's house."

Now I remembered why we were at Impossible! We were investigating a drug ring, and we must have gotten caught up in the atmosphere. "Where are our clothes?"

"No one had swimsuits for the hot tub, obviously, so they're out back. I'll go get them." She jogged around the back of the house.

We all laughed. We had all panicked over virtually nothing, only a night of pure, spontaneous fun, which we didn't have enough of. You know, maybe Last Night Jules had it right.


	2. Last Night Carlton

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Psych! It's becoming depressing. **

**This is from Carlton's POV.**

**Cap .R. Man: Total misunderstanding! They were only naked because they were hot tubbing, and I figure they just got home and crawled into bed. **

My head feels so warm. Do I have a fever? It all made sense when I opened my eyes. Well, sort of. I realized I was upside down in a gym, but that didn't make any sense. The scream that came from my left side didn't make sense either. I managed to swivel enough to see O'Hara, hanging beside me. Just past her, Spencer hung, still unconscious. On my other side, Guster was hanging in dreamland.

"O'Hara, what's going on?" I whispered.

She smiled at the sound of my voice. "Carlton. Oh, thank god! I thought you were dead! I've been awake for hours, and I'm really worried about the guys." She said, but her voice wasn't much more than a croak.

"Why are we here?"

"I don't know. Someone tied us up and drugged us, and we woke up here. Anything that happened in between is a mystery to me."

I nodded, or attempted to. "Okay. This knot feels pretty poorly done; I should be able to get out of it." Sure enough, I squeezed out. I dropped onto the floor beneath us limply.

"Oof!" I grunted when I made contact. I pulled O'Hara out her knots and did the same to Spencer and Guster. They came to when they hit the ground.

"Lassie! Jules! What's going on?" Spencer screeched when he hit the ground.

"We don't know. Gus, are you okay?" O'Hara asked when Guster walked into a wall. He nodded vigorously. We were in a large gymnasium. It was fairly conventional, with an elliptical, a treadmill and...a note on the door. I ripped it off.

**Hello, Detectives!**

**How do you feel?**

**Does your skin peel?**

**Be careful, **

**Don't try the door.**

**We'll be back.**

"Everyone check your skin!' I barked. We all found letters on our legs. O'Hara had STAY, Guster had PUT, I had I WON'T and Spencer had HURT YOU.

O'Hara translated it first. "Stay put, I won't hurt you. What the hell kind of a kidnapper actually comes out and _tells_ you that they won't hurt you? This guy's either a rookie, or playing an angle. Your guess is as good as mine." She looked at me expectantly.

"It's a rookie. They don't know how to scare victims, and the knot was incredibly sloppy. If this guy had ever tried this before, we would be in jail." Everyone nodded their agreement.

"Shawn, are you getting anything?" O'Hara asked.

He tilted his head and squinted, looking amazingly odd, even for Spencer. "Our perp is a woman, mid-forties, blond hair. She was working alone." O'Hara and Guster nodded and started searching the place for clues. Spencer and I joined them.

"I found something!" O'Hara cried.

"What did you find?" I asked.

"An earring. But it gets better. This earring belongs to a cop. SBPD, to be exact. They were sold to the female detectives in a fundraiser last year. It was a jewelry and t-shirt sale."

"Who are the other female officers and detectives?" Guster asked.

"Just me, Tricia Alvordson, Hannah Harris, and Chief Vick."

"I know Hannah. She's a too tall to have bother hanging us so low. She's at least 5'11; she would have hung us higher. And Tricia's a midget. Not an inch over 5'2. She couldn't have hung us as high as we were. That leaves Vick." Spencer said.

I shook my head. "No, this wasn't Karen. Does anyone have a watch?" Guster produced one. "What time is it?"

"3 PM."

"What about a cellular phone?" Everyone checked their pockets and shook their heads.

Then, the door opened. In walked Karen.

"Chief!" Spencer cried. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes! Some lunatic kidnapped us."

She blushed. "Mr. Spencer, I think I have some explaining to do. Yesterday, death threats for you four were sent into the station. They were serious, and menacing. Now, I know you all very well, and I knew I wouldn't be able to make you stay in the station. You would all try to find the psycho, and you'd all wind up dead. So I did something, well, less than legal. I made you think you had been kidnapped, and planned to keep you in captivity until we caught our killer. It made sense at the time." She was bright red with guilt. "We just caught our man. I hate to ask this of you, but please, _please_ don't tell anybody about this." We all nodded our consent.

"Thank you, Chief." O'Hara said quietly. I didn't thank her. What she had done was wrong, and the law was my only friend. I wasn't about to thank her for breaking it.

She caught my arm on the way out. "I'm sorry about last night, Carlton."


	3. Last Night Shawn

**Disclaimer: I don't own Psych. *Sniffle***

**Okay, lots of people are asking me some variation of this question: What was the time difference between the two chapters? The answer is: They kind of take place in parallel universes where the other never happened. Sorry if that doesn't make sense. The chief was sorry about kidnapping them. If that leaves unanswered questions, PM me and I'll respond as fast as humanly possible. **

**This is from Shawn's POV.**

Everything was blurry. All I could make out was the pink comforter I was under and the fact that there was a girl next to me.

Probably Jules. Then everything came into focus. This wasn't Juliet's bedroom! But, with further inspection, I found that she was the one next to me. What? I heard a woman's voice coming from outside the room. The smell of pancakes wafted in.

I decided to get up and scope out the situation. The room I was in looked like it belonged to a teenage girl. A bit of an odd teenage girl, but a teenage girl. There were a lot of pinks and purples around the room. There were certificates and awards all over the walls. In the closet, there was a nice selection of size two blouses, skinny jeans, and...is that a pantsuit? Then I noticed the starter's pistol on the desk. But what really tied it together was the picture on the wall. The picture of a 16 year old Juliet.

She was tall and very thin, with the same smile that she still has to this day. She was in a field with some other girls. They were dancing. There was a little sign on the door that read Queen of Miami in hot pink letters. Oh. Then I got it. This was the house where Jules grew up.

O00oo00oo00O

I quietly snuck out of the bedroom to find some answers, and possibly pancakes. What I found was not for the faint of heart. I found a big, tiled kitchen with sunlight streaming in through the windows. Around the kitchen table sat Lassie, Gus, and Juliet's parents. Gus and Lassie were happily chomping on pancakes wearing matching onsies. They didn't seem remotely freaked out about the fact that we had somehow woken up across the country. In fact, they seemed very calm. I then realized that I, too, bore a matching onsie.

"Gus! Lassie! O'Haras! Hi!" I called from the doorway. Jules's mom ushered me to the table with a big smile. She gave me a pile of flapjacks that was taller than Gus.

"Thanks! So, not to be rude, but, um, why am I here?" I inquired.

"We haven't the faintest idea! Julie just showed up last night with you boys and said you needed a place to stay. It was a happy surprise, of course, but we're wondering that too. I'll go wake Julie up." She left.

"So, how did you sleep?" Gus asked.

That was it. I couldn't take it anymore. "Cut the crap. Why are you pretending everything's okay? We wake up across the freaking country and you guys just idly eat a delicious breakfast?"

Lassie cleared his throat. "Well, Spencer, there's no point of freaking out on an empty stomach. We're...preparing for the day, so to speak."

I rolled my eyes. "You just wanted a free breakfast." They tried to deny it, but it was no use. I was onto them like fat on a fat person.

Jules came stumbling out of her bedroom. She was also in a onsie.

"What the hell is up with the onsies?" I exclaimed. Mrs. O'Hara explained that it was the only pajamas they had to give us. Jules sat on my lap and started attacking my pancakes.

"Whoa, there! Drop the fork! He carries a gun, you know." I said, motioning to Lassie.

She laughed, but continued to eat.

"What brings you kids down here?" Mrs. O'Hara asked.

Jules stopped eating for a second. "I woke up down the street a few hours ago. Someone had dumped us on the sidewalk. I woke Gus up, and we carried Shawn and Carlton back. Well, I carried Shawn and Carlton. Gus was having a panic attack. I have no idea how we got from Santa Barbara to Miami. I think we were drugged."

I gaped at her. "You carried _both of us_? But...put together we must be triple your weight!"

She shrugged. "The Miami PD trains hard. You guys are about half of the weight I was required to be able to carry." She continued to devour my breakfast.

Lassie finished his pancakes and sighed. "Thank you, Mrs. O'Hara. That's the best home-made breakfast I've had in along time."

"Any time, Carlton." She collected our plates and took them to the dishwasher. "Does anyone remember anything from last night?"

Something flashed through my mind. Some big guys with AK-47s. A syringe. Time to put on a show. "Oh! Oh no!" I stretched my leg into an arabesque. "I'm getting...I'm getting...POWPOWPOWPOWPOW!" I tried to sound like an automatic weapon, which went wonderfully. "Aeeeh! No! It's the Beatles! Wait, no. Don Cheadle? No...a needle! That's it! It's attached to something. A syringe!" I collapsed in my chair atop Jules. She applauded quietly. She had told me once, drunk of course, that she had always loved my performances. She would never admit it again, though.

"Anything else, Spencer?" Now that Lassie was done with his pancakes, he was all business.

I shook my head. "The well has run dry, Sir Lass-a-lot." He nodded tartly.

We looked so ridiculous in the onsies; it was hard to take our situation seriously. Gus was developing a nervous twitch; Lassie was suffering from separation anxiety from his gun, and Jules nervously spinning her pigtails. Jules's parents were quite baffled at 1.) My incredible psychic display 2.) Lassie's horrific bed head and 3.) The fact that 3 Santa Barbara citizens and their daughter showed up in Miami in the middle of the night. We were quite a sight. I knew someone would injure me if I started laughing, so I fought it for once in my life. However, fighting it doesn't always work. A snort led to a guffaw, which led to a chuckle, which led to a full-on belly laugh.

Gus shot me a look. "Shawn, not a good time. Shut up."

"Suck it."

"You suck it."

"Suck it!"

O00oo00oo00O

Once we found some suitable clothes, we were up and at 'em. We started at the Miami PD, Juliet's old workplace. We were greeted by an old friend of hers.

"Detective O'Hara?"

She laughed. "Jonathon Rena! Oh my god!"

They hugged. He was...a Miami cop. And this was coming from a California cop. This dude was posh. But in a very badass, I-stole-this, way.

"I am so rude! This is Head Detective Jonathon Rena, my former superior and boyfriend. He is the funniest guy you will ever meet! Jon, this is Carlton Lassiter, my partner and Head Detective. This is Shawn Spencer, a psychic consultant for the SBPD and my boyfriend and this is Burton Guster, he works with Shawn."

We all shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. We exchanged Jules stories for a few minutes. He laughed so hard he couldn't breathe when I told him the story about the creepy tourists watching us make out in Canada, and I laughed at his story about getting lost in Disney World with her. We were off on the right foot, but he spoiled it with his next comment.

"So, Jules how's sunny California?" It wasn't the usual Cali question that bothered me, it was the name. Jules was my name for her, it was our thing.

"It's gorgeous, but nothing like Miami. I definitely miss it here sometimes. I thought Santa Barbara would be all posh and crimeless, but god, someone gets murdered every week. It's awful, really. I suppose you get used to it."

"So, Horatio,"

"It's Jonathon."

"Whatevs. As I was saying, some wackjob drugged us and mailed us down here last night, and you need our help to find him."

"Oh, you got drugged? How do you feel?"

"Peckish. So, what's it gonna be?"

He nodded quickly. "Yeah, of course. I'll run it by the Chief later. So, do you remember anything? Voices, genders, names if we're lucky?"

"_Jules_ remembers it the best. They underestimated her dosage, so she has some hazy memory. Sweetheart?" I was careful to call her Jules. She heard the tension in my voice and looked at me quizzically, but responded.

"Yeah, so I think we were forced into a car. They were carrying AK-47S, which explains Shawn's visions. I assume they drove us to a plane, obviously not a public airport. Then they landed and dumped us here."

Jon nodded. "Okay, that's good. Do you have any enemies?"

We all laughed. "Too many to count. The families of people I've arrested, uncaught psychopaths, you name the crook, they want to kill me." I said cockily.

Lassie nodded. "It's true; he really makes people want to kill him."

Jules gave us a look. "Play nice. Anyway, all four of us have a long list of enemies. Except for possibly Gus."

"What are you talking about? I have a ton of enemies!" Gus cried indignantly.

Jonathon looked at him weirdly. "That's not exactly something to argue about, Gus."

A young woman walked into the police station. She was a blonde, and she was wearing a well-fitting pantsuit. She was the spitting image of-

"Juliet!" The girl cried. She threw her arms around Jules, who smiled. "Your parents called me and said you were down here."

"Lindsey! Hi! Guys, this is my cousin, Lindsey Conner, my cousin. She's a lawyer at Cameron and Hetherford, the firm down on Maple Ave. Lindsey, this is Carlton Lassiter, my partner at the SBPD, Shawn Spencer, our psychic consultant, and Burton Guster, and he's also a consultant. Oh, and this is Jonathon Rena, he's head detective here."

She smiled openly, turning towards me. "Juliet's mentioned you. You sound incredible! I hear you're a pretty stellar psychic too." I laughed, and Jules blushed.

She shook everyone's hands. "So, what brings y'all to Miami?"

"Well," Jules said, "we're not sure. We think we were drugged and dropped here."

She put a hand to her mouth. "Oh, my god! That's awful!"

"We're resilient." Gus purred.

"Did you just hit the jackal switch? Burton 'The Madness' Guster, I can't believe you're hitting on Juliet's cousin! Shame on you!"

His mouth denied it, but his eyes said yes. Lindsey giggled. She obviously found us interesting, and she was quite a page-turner herself. She was a 23-year-old Jules, but brasher, bolder, and less I-might-shoot-you-at-any-given-moment-ish. She was amusing, but not Jules by a long shot.

"I think you'll find more clues in Santa Barbara." Jon said.

"Wait! I know someone who works in pilot licensing! I'll text her." Juliet said and excused herself.

We made small talk until she came back. "She gave us a name of someone who was recently licensed and seemed suspicious. Jon, can you run a 'Joanna Lacey' through the system." He nodded and did as he was told.

"She's a regular offender, it started with petty theft, but she was accused of murder last year. She got off the hook and moved to Santa Barbara. While she was there, she again was accused of murder and got off the hook."

"I know that name." Lindsey said quietly. "I was the victim's family's lawyer in the first case. She was the most disgusting crook I ever worked against. Unfortunately, her lawyer was Harold Vinson, the best man in town. I didn't stand a chance. I heard about the murder up in Cali. I can't believe she got off again."

"O'Hara and I brought her in. Spencer psychically found her. Guster was...there. Maybe. I'm not actually sure about that."

"Oh, come on!"

"Does she still live up there?" I asked Jon.

"Yeah. Or at least that's what her record says."

"This woman seems pretty damn suspicious. What do you guys think?" Everyone nodded. "Let's get a man hunt on her. I'll call Vick." Carlton said. He walked away.

He returned a minute later. "Good news. The Chief had just finished booking Joanna when I called. She said they found out that all roads lead to here about her missing detectives. The men who drugged us were her groupies. She had thought she was dumping our dead bodies, but she gave us too small a dosage."

O00oo00oo00O

I stripped off my dirty clothes and sank into the bubble bath I had drawn. I was exhausted. After all, I had a pretty rough night. Last Night Shawn had done his dues, and it was now time to melt into a sea of bubbly wonderfulness.


End file.
